Damn Girl, That’s A Lot Of Fattitude

24 Aug, 2012

TC Weigh In, Jiggle It & Rewind

Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Races| Training| Triathlon| Weight

Starting Thinspiration Camp Weight: 232

Week 3 Weight : 219

Damn, that feels good. This week had its ups and downs, including margaritas and queso, but I counted all my calories and cut back on other meals to compensate. Though, I definitely didn’t exercise as much. I biked Monday, and we saw the results of that and then we swam Tuesday and nothing since. My entire shin is a black and blue cut up bruised mess that hurts to walk. Also, Kevin hurt his shoulder somehow, so we’ve taken it easy.

UNTIL TOMORROW…. Tomorrow I go back to Jiggle It since the tri is over. What is Jiggle It you may ask? Jiggle It is a dance cardio class where you literally learn to clap, shake, wag, isolate, pop and roll your booty wearing stripper heels. My heels can be seen on the left. And yes, that pink reacts to a black light. Boom. I absolutely love this class. I burn as many calories here as I do in spin. Bonus: I can now do unspeakable things with my booty.

Alright: REWIND….

July 2012: A 10k. I hate running, but I’ve decided to do the Peachtree Road Race. It’s an Atlanta event, and considering I’m an Atlanta Native, it must be done. Right? Check one off the ol’ list of things that I’ve done. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. My goal? 1:30’ish. Let me say it again, I hate running. Mile 1, I’m happy and feeling good. Mile 2, I’m here and feeling good. Mile 3, I’m not happy, but I’m still feeling good. Mile 4, I hate running, but my body is feeling good. Mile 5, my knee pops. I feel it go. The first thought I have is, “The Triathlon. Oh dear God, the Triathlon.” I walk another mile to the finish in 1:39:06. I’ll take it.

At this point I’ve run once before the Tri and it ended in horrific knee pain. It hurts to walk. Ice and elevate. Elevate and ice. Pray I can attempt to run in a month.

August 18th: Despite training hard I am panicking this time. I’m not sure why, maybe it’s the distance, but I am 100% panicking that I will be the last person to finish or they will give me a DNF (did not finish) because I didn’t finish in time, people will laugh and feel bad for the “fat girl.” I am my own worst enemy. At this point I am destroying everything I’ve worked for mentally. I’m falling to pieces. I’m contemplating not doing the tri. I’m using my knee as an excuse. I’m scared: scared of who I’ve become. Sometimes I do not even know this person that looks back at them in the mirror. My knee is throbbing, but it’s 5am and I’m hoping pure adrenaline carries me through. I’ve trained hard outside of the running aspect. I did spin 3 times a week and swam twice a week. I took a dance class on Saturdays, too. I’m prepared, maybe not mentally, but physically I can do this. And I will.

I’m 888 this time out of over 1000 again. The race “high” kicks in and I’m excited (finally.) My husband is doing the Tri with me this time, along with my best friend.
PhotobucketI prepare myself for the swim. A longer distance, a bit more fear and just as many people. If anything, I’m more nervous because I remember the Titantic like scene from last time. My husband and I exchange one last kiss and run into the water. The water is a perfect temperature and my stroke is solid. I’m counting my breaths and pacing myself. I remember the chaos from last time and scan the water for my husband just to make sure he’s ok. I find him and then do work. Head down, upper body strong, breath every three strokes. My goggles fog up and I calmly take them off, rinse them while swimming and keep on keepin on. I swim to  the inside of the pack to avoid the chaos and find myself making the turn towards shore. I glance at my watch and see I’m ahead of time. I kick it into high gear and go, go, go. I’m out of the water and into transition. I anticipated 25 minutes for my swim (it’s a longer distance and on top of that there are no pool walls to kick off of) I finish is 14. 11 minutes ahead of time and a minute ahead of my training pool pace. I’m ecstatic.

Onto the bike and off I go. Now, I have a terrible bike: an absolutely horrible, weird, hybrid thing that refuses to change gears when I ask it too. The chain randomly falls off and gears will change when I don’t touch anything. It’s a nightmare. I anticipate my bike taking 1:30 since it’s 14 miles and my chain will probably fall off at least six times, putting me at 2:00 (let’s say 5:00 for my first transition.) I love biking, despite my bike. I just enjoy it. It’s my favorite part of the tri. I can’t explain it considering it’s the sport I’m the worst at. The rolling hills are incredible and let me tell you, Peachtree City is absolutely stunning. There are people outside on their driveways cheering us on, spraying us with water, other athletes cheer you on as you pass each other, there are tons of spectators, it’s incredible. I’m totally alone on a hill and there’s a kid that looks to be a high school Senior that is outside cheering us on with his friends. Well, he jumps down into a deep squat, points both index fingers at me and starting belting out, “There ain’t no stopping you now!” And there wasn’t. As I turned into the final .25 mile of the ride I hear someone scream, “GO DANIELLE!” I look back and it’s my parents. They came out to support me (and my husband and best-friend.) It was a totally unexpected, fantastic surprise. I finished the bike in 1:06…another 24 minutes off of my anticipated time. My chain stayed on and my gears only stuck a few times.

I race through this transition and get off to my run in the right direction this time! I realize that my current overall time is 1:27 and all I’ve got left is a 5k. I reevaluate my goal to 2:30, giving me an hour to do the 5k. Now, an hour is extremely generous, but I haven’t been running, I hate running, and my knee. Even on my best 5k my time was 41:18 and I hadn’t just biked 14 miles and swam a 1/3 mile. I buckle down and start my run. Every time I wanted to walk, I made myself run. If I caught myself walking I’d play a game where I had to run til I saw the next person and then I could walk. I looked at my watch with a mile left and realized if I stepped on it I could finish the whole thing in 2:15. And step on it I did.

PhotobucketI crossed the finish line at 2:14:02.30. 46 minutes ahead of what I thought I’d do. My family and friends were standing right there at the finish and tears just started streaming from my face. I was filled with so much pride and just amazement. When I started this journey I weighed 325lbs and would have never thought in a million years I could be a triathlete. And here I was, having lost over 100lbs and completed my second triathlon.

My husband bought me a new Cannondale Road Bike as a surprise for all of my hard work. I do my first 33 mile bike ride/race on September 15th and my next triathlon on September 30 at Lake Lanier. I hated every minute of the first tri, but was hooked on the feeling after. I loved every minute of this tri, knew what to expect, how to train better, how to pace myself, and how to better prepare over all.

I’m addicted now. I’m no where near 1st in my division and I may finish last, but that’s ok. (I did finish 10th in my division.) I’m lapping everyone on the couch and I’m doing something I never thought I could.

21 Aug, 2012

You will fall.

Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Training

Photobucket

If you worried about falling off the bike, you’d never get on. ~ Lance Armstrong

True story, because you will fall. At some point, while being clipped in, you will fall. It sucks. You tell yourself it won’t happen to you. You may just run into a bush the first time because you forget where your new breaks are and your husband is screaming “BREAK BREAK” as you’re quickly approaching said shrubbery and ride straight into it. (Don’t judge me.) But, you will fall for real. It’s what happens after your fall that counts.

In attempt to try and learn my bike and push myself, I tried getting out of the saddle, in a gear too big for the hill I was on to “jog through” it, while clipped in. Negative. That 100% did not happen. What did happen is I got out of the saddle and onto the ground, while clipped in still. Oh god, mortified.

So, Kevin was at the top of the hill (waiting on my slow ass) and there is this walker that looks at me, looks at him, watches me fall, looks at him and then runs to me. She asks me if I need help. Of course, I tell her, “NO. I’m fine. I’m good. Keep walking.” (Who says that? Keep walking. Well, she’s staring at the blood dripping down my shin and I repeat myself, she looks back to see Kevin riding down to me and then keeps walking. I’m sitting on my big ass, still awkwardly clipped in my bike, crying (that shit hurt - I fell into a curb with rocks, not grass next to it, but rocks.) Kevin arrives and then a cop pulls up and asks if I’m ok. WTF? Kevin tells him I fell, but I’m fine, and he laughs. Seriously? Rude.

Anyhow, Kevin says he’ll get the car and pick me up, but I refuse and finish the course. Bloody leg and all. It hurt. It stung. It was embarrassing, but honestly, a year ago…I would have begged him to pick me up. It felt damn good to say no and finish it. Sometimes I forget how different I am now and even though the scale may not always reflect my hard work, something “upstairs” has changed. It’s a welcomed change.

I want to ride my bicycle

I want to ride my bike

I want to ride my bicycle

I want to ride it where I like

~ Queen Bicycle Race, Fat Bottomed Girls

Queen Bicycle Race Quote

20 Aug, 2012

A Myriad of Emotions

Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Life| Races| Triathlon

Well, tri #2 is done and it was amazing. I learned some valuable lessons, though.

  • Fatties get WAY too serious when racing. It’s uncomfortable. At least I feel uncomfortable. Oh boo hoo, I said “fatties.” I am a fellow fatty, I can use that term. Now, here’s my problem. The thinner people that compete can joke with each other. They give each other a hard time. You can’t do that shit with my people.  When I jokingly said, “Whose idea was this?” I was met with, “Ours. We are taking our lives back.” WOW. OK. INTENSE. Yes, I am too, but ffs, lighten up.
  • I competed with Olympians. (Junior Olympians, but I don’t give a fuck.
  • Hydrating is key. I stayed extremely well hydrated and felt fantastic. No cramps. No issues. No fatigue. Just pure champion.
  • I placed 10th in the Athena Division. (Athena is 150lbs+, which I think is bullshit. There’s a big ass difference between a 6′, muscular 150lb woman and my chubby 5′5, 222lb ass.) 10th of out 18. I expected to take 3hours to finish and then after my swim I was already ahead of my pace by 10 minutes (idfk how that happened) and then my bike went better than I expected by a long shot. Once I started my run I thought I’d do about 2:30, and then one mile in I pushed myself harder than I ever have in my life. When I wanted to ran, I made myself run. I finished in 2:14:05. I am so incredibly proud of myself.
  • Surprise support systems are incredible. I was turning the corner into the bike transition when I heard my mom scream, “Go Danielle!!!” and I damn near fell off my bike because I was flabbergasted to see her and my dad there.
  • My bike blows.
  • Speaking of bikes!!! Kevin and I had discussed me getting a bike for a long time and I’d been slowly saving money in attempt to just walk in and make it rain all over REI; however, Sunday morning Kevin looked at me and said that we should celebrate how awesome I did with getting that bike for me. TOTAL Surprise! So, here she is. My new baby. (Yet to be named.)

    On that note, I just registered for another Triathlon in 41 days. I’m hooked.

    14 Aug, 2012

    Thinspiration Camp: Where Calories Go To Die

    Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Life| Triathlon| Weight

    It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been here….

    The last time I was here I weighed 216, I got down to 210 and then went through some shit and now I’m back at 226. I’ve started Synthroid and I tried out for a work related “The Biggest Loser” program called Slimpossible. I was not chosen. I’m not sure why/how I wasnt chosen, as my application was quite compelling and intense.

    Where do I begin? I grew up in a culinary family with a very health conscious mother that works out, and still works out two to three times a day and a culinary father with whom I learned all things delicious and nutritious, but not moderation or portion control. I guess now I am the best and worst of them both: a love/hate relationship with exercise and a love/love relationship with food.

    My earliest memories include me eating Doritos on my Daddy’s lap while watching the 3 Stooges, making homemade popcorn with butter drizzled all over it, making fruit salad with my mom, learning how different foods combine and mix and what flavors go together. Then I was old enough to have chores where one of them was preparing a meal 3 days a week during the summer…and if one tablespoon of butter is good, why wouldn’t 5 tablespoons be amazing? My dad owned restaurants all over the world. My brother cooks. My mother cooks. We are a bunch of cookin’ fools. We host events, we cook for family and friends. We celebrate food.

    I played soccer growing up so I was extremely active, but I fell in love with the arts and started singing Opera. I stopped playing soccer when I get serious into Opera, but didn’t stop eating. When I stopped playing soccer four times a week I put all of my weight on. In 5 years, I was the fat, outgoing, funny girl at graduation that peaked at 325lbs with the blink of an eye. At 18 and 325lbs I was confident, but I wasn’t healthy and I recognized that, but not much changed until my birth control changed. I lost 100lbs over about 4 years without much effort at all. I saw the weight was coming off so I watched what I ate and exercised a little, and by a little, I mean I took the stairs…sometimes… Then for about 5 years all I’ve done is lose and gain, lose and gain…and it’s exhausting. At one point I was back up to 285lbs.  I’m not that confident 18 year old anymore. I worry about my health, I worry about my future, I worry. I’ve stayed under 230 for the past two years and then this past year I’ve gotten down to 210lbs, but now I’m back up to 224lbs and I can’t wrap my head around it. I’ve made the healthier changes and make all “light” foods. I eat my salads, I make my own ranch with greek yogurt, I only buy light mayo and light butter, etc. etc. But truth be told, I need help with learning moderation, learning portion control, and learning to say no. I’ve said yes for far too long.

    This year I committed to staying active no matter what. And I have. I work out 4-5 times a week. I spin, I dance, I run, I swim, I cycle.  I’ve run/jogged/walked three 5ks, one 10k, completed the super sprint PTC tri, and now I’m doing a real sprint tri in August. My mom is supportive and does some races with me. My best friend is supportive and trains with me. My husband is ridiculously supportive and also trains/does races with me.

    My support system is all in a healthy/normal weight range. They want to lose those 10 vanity pounds, where as I could still lose 100 pounds and still be in a normal weight range. It can be hard exercising with people that don’t have worry about things like inner thigh chaffing and rolls just’a bouncing away. Sure it motivates me and pushes me, but let’s be honest, I can’t keep their pace and it’s down right embarrassing when they offer to “keep my pace” and then they don’t even break a sweat while I’m gasping for air and counting the seconds to my eminent death.

    I’ve got the exercise down, I’ve got family and friends that love and support me, but….

    Hi, I’m Danielle and I’m a foodie: I cook, I eat, I discover, I over indulge, I comfort, I celebrate, I love. I’m an addict. And I’m desperate. Please help me.

    Yep, intense, right? Still wasn’t chosen. However, with support from everyone I know I am running my own “Thinspiration Camp: where calories go to die” to get me back on track.

    The last I wrote I was 77 days away from my first ever triathlon and now I’m doing another triathlon (1/3 mile swim,  14mile bike, 3.1 run) in…FOUR days. FML. I am so not ready. I hurt my knee running a 10k over a month ago and it’s still not in great shape. Anyhow, here’s the recap on my first every tri:

    It was AWESOME….when I wasn’t dying.

    I was number 858 (out of over 1000.) The transition area was pretty overwhelming, as there were over 1000 bikes! I felt pretty confident going into the water, but it was about 100 yards in that I felt a nice swift kick to my left cheek and all of the air in my lungs escape. As I came up for a much needed, panicked breath, upon inhaling I found water, not air in my lungs….. I doggy paddled for a solid 100 yards and prayed to God I didn’t die. You might have thought this was a scene out of the Titanic, as there were actually people screaming “Help!” and panic everywhere. I got myself together and finished….about 8 minutes behind my typical pace…but I finished. I ran to the transition area and coughed the whole damn way trying to catch my breath.

    I found my bike and it was at this point I decided this was the worst idea of my life and I was ready to quit. I sucked it up and made my way out of the transition area with my bike. I heard this faint yelling that sounded identical to Kevin (my husband) saying, “Go baby! You can do it! I love you!” from the crowds and was 100% sure I was hallucinating since I had told him he didn’t need to come. Sure enough, it was him. Just when I needed it! I threw my water bottles that were in my way at him to hold and then I whizzed past him on the bike, and by whizzed, I mean gasped for air and was going approximately .0003 miles an hour. Regardless, I got my big ass up the hill and took off. I felt most comfortable on my bike, oddly enough, especially since it has given me the most problems. Every time I wanted to quit and hop off I reminded myself that Kevin was there to cheer me on and I had support….so I kept on keeping on. I ended my bike portion about 5 minutes later than I had hoped for, but my transition into the corral off my bike was ridiculously smooth and I’m fairly convinced people had to have been impressed….and if they weren’t I sure in hell was.

    I unclipped my helmet and had someone yell at me to reclip. Let me tell you, trying to clip a helmet, take off you gloves and run with a bike is impossible. My legs came off the bike and they were like jello. One step…two steps…three steps…run… Negative. There was no running in that transition. I held my clip together and hopped for the best. I looked around, took a deep breath and started on my run….in 100% the wrong direction. One of the officials turned me around and got me started in the right direction. Again, Kevin was right there. He handed me my water bottles and told me he loved me and I took off.

    My run was a nightmare. I’d gotten my run time down to a 12 minute mile (which isn’t impressive for most people, but I’m a bigger girl and NOT a runner, by any stretch of the imagination.) I was not able to do a 12 minute mile…in fact, I sustained a 17 minute mile, alternating between jogging and speed walking. I was 100% convinced that I had taken the international route, as it certainly felt like I had done 6.2 miles and not 2….nope…as I got to the top of a huge hill someone yelled, “It’s ALL down hill from here!” That was clearly a metaphor and not the truth….the finish was up hill. I took a deep breath, dug in and pushed myself through the finish line with a time of 1:34:15. My goal was to do it in 1:30 but I was just damn glad it was over and I was alive! As I crossed the finish line I thought to myself, “Never again….”

    And then, not even 48 hours later I had signed up for another triathlon of an even longer distance, (1/3 mile swim, 15 mile bike and a 3.1 run) in August. Kevin to sign up too! YAY!

    It was grueling; it was difficult: in fact, it was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, but in the 5 months I trained I gained a self confidence and pride I’ve never felt before and I lost 25 pounds. I was excited about training again and this was an amazing introduction to triathlons. I hated every minute of it while I was doing it, but I cannot explain how fantastic I felt/feel about myself after/now. I definitely learned a lot of things during the tri itself that would have been really beneficial to know beforehand. Example: I need a one piece tri-suit because the two piece moves too much. I will definitely need to get a new bike at some point. I need to hydrate more along the way. etc. etc. I think ultimately, when I am at my goal weight I will attempt an international/Olympic triathlon….maybe. That’s a 1 mile swim, 25 mile bike and a 6.2 run….and that sounds crazy just to type.

    On that note, I promise to be better about writing….

    02 Mar, 2012

    Not Giving a Shit Has Worked Wonders For Me…

    Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Crazy| Life| Training

    Until now. 216. Still 216. My husband says to not be hard on myself, I was sick for 3 days, my routine was off, etc. etc. I use to quit when I didn’t lose but this just infuriates me to the point of wanting it even more. I’d like to see 212 this coming Friday. Make up for those two pounds I didn’t lose this week, but 4lbs might a bit unrealistic. I’m 77 days out from my triathlon and 17 pounds away from my tri-goal weight.

    In gym drama, I found out one of the girls I get ready with is cheating on her husband. Last September she found out that her husband has been sleeping with her co-worker/friend/neighbor (all 3 apparently) and she decided the best way to handle it was to cheat back. Apparently he found out yesterday. He asked her for her phone code to unlock it and she said, “You can have it but you’re not going to like what you find.” And how do you say “Ok. Nevermind. I don’t want it anymore.” at that point? You can’t. You don’t. You just grin and bare it.  So I ask her, “Do you feel satisifed now? Like you can forgive and forget and move on?” and she looks me square in the eye and says, “No. I’m filing for divorice now.” To which I respond,  ”OH DAMN.” She made him think that everything was going to be okay, they’d move on and handle it together, waited 6 months for things to settle, cheated on him and now plans on leaving. BOOM. Wrap your head around that.

    Me not losing weight this week, while also no gaining seems so insignificant against the mind fuck her husband is experiencing.

    01 Mar, 2012

    Whiskey and Cheddar Bay Biscuits

    Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Food Talk| Life| Training| Weight

    I’ve had an interestingly terrible day.

    This morning I decided to try out the spin bikes all by myself since there wasn’t a class going on. When I got on the bike I couldnt help but see the bike yellow sign on it that said MAXIMUM WEIGHT: 300lbs. My heart skipped a beat and I panicked for a second before I remembered I weigh 216lbs now. Sometimes I have these moments where I almost forget. I’ll catch myself looking in a mirror and not recognizing myself. I’ll see a weight limit sign and freeze. Today, I thought I was going to break a spin bike.

    Once I remembered my weight, I felt like this would be an opportune time to get comfortable with a spin bike. Low and behold other people felt the day way. The first guy that came in asked if he could turn the lights off. Wtf? Creeper. The 2nd guy was a chubby, flaming man who was clearly fabulous and every 3 minutes he sang about ten flat notes as loud as he could at the top of his lungs. He would watch me and when I turned my head to make eye contact he’d pretend he was never looking….we were facing mirrors. I could literally see him staring at me. It was so bizarre. I ended up doing 11.5 miles in 30 minutes. I was able to work through climbing hills and changing gears (which is where I currently really struggle.) Then I ran 1.75 miles. It felt really good to be back in the gym after having been out for a couple of days. (WHO AM I?)

    Last night my husband went to weigh himself and the scale read “LO”…. Low Battery. I actually freaked out. How long has it been low? Does this mean my weight has been inaccurate? Maybe I havent lost? I need to weigh in. It was terrible. I literally spazzed out. My husband reassurred me that everything was fine. That I’ve lost weight: he can see it. That it’s okay. I slightly believed him. I weigh in for the week tomorrow. We’re buying a new battery tonight.

    Work has been terrible today, too. It’s just one of those days where I’ve felt like an idiot with everything I do. Which is terrible because I am extremely confident.

    We’re going to Reb Lobster for dinner. Thankfully, I feel like I’ve got the whole eating out thing pretty much down now. Unfortunately, because my day has been so shitty I really feel like sitting down with a glass  bottle of whiskey and a basket of their cheddar bay biscuits.

    29 Feb, 2012

    One Small Victory For My Kind

    Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Food Talk| Training

    I went home from work early yesterday to prepare for my eminent death and promptly read the rest of Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. I survived the night. My husband said he’d cook so I didn’t contaminate all the food. We ordered Chinese. (Things like that remind me why I love him.) He’s good about it, too. He’s always sure to ask me if I can eat wherever we’re going or if it’s too tempting or whatever. I decide to take “Chinese Cuisine” under my lists of food conquering. Once upon a time I would just rule it out and make everyone suffer because I “couldn’t eat it.” Thankfully, our place has a “Spa Cuisine” section which apparently means steamed. (Side note: they should have just committed and called it “Sauna Cuisine.”) I’m usually good about finding something to order that’s healthy and then when it’s my turn to speak my “grilled chicken with steamed veggies 86 the butter” comes out sounding something like, “Yes, I’d like the double cheese quesadilla, extra sour cream, guacamole, rice and beans…oh! And a side of ranch, please.” I’ve gotten remarkably better about this. So, I am actually able to order my Sauna Chicken, sauce on the side, brown rice. When it arrives I put 1/2 away. One small victory for my kind. 

    This morning my alarm went off at 5am for the gym. I rolled over to my husband and asked him if I should take today off since I’ve been sick. He tells me yes, not to go sweat everywhere and get sicker. I concur and go back to sleep. I’m usually tough on myself for these things, but I have a long bike this weekend and have decided to just brick my workout tomorrow. Another “healthy” win for me: listening to my body, taking care of myself and not quitting.

    The random 5lbs I put on yesterday were gone this morning. Sadly, that means no weight loss this week thus far and I officially weigh in 2 days. Should be interesting. My body is beyond weird and it is still entirely possible I lose 2lbs.

     

    100% unrelated: If you watch American Idol vote for Aaron Marcellus. He’s a friend of mine and one of the nicest, most genuine people you’ll ever meet. He’s humble and kind and incredibly talented. 

    28 Feb, 2012

    An Emo Kind of Illness

    Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Life| Training

    I didn’t dare go to the gym since I can’t stop coughing today and I fear I may actually die. This is where my problem comes in though. I feel like a “quitter” when I don’t go and I hate that feeling. I usually end up forcing myself to go, get sicker and then stop going period. This time I’m trying to force myself to take care of my body, listen to my body and just make better food choices until I feel up to pushing myself again… which is hard when I weighed in +5lbs today….WTF? It makes me want to say, “Why bother?” I didn’t eat differently yesterday and I exercised. It’s illogical, but I’m certain it’s because I’m sick or something. My body is reacting poorly. Regardless, that doesn’t make it any less frustrating. Perhaps that’s what I get for weighing in on a daily basis and not weekly. The bulk of carbs probably didnt help over the weekend either.

    I can’t quit. I won’t let this deter me. I won’t keep playing this stupid round and round game with myself.

    I do apologize. I get relatively emo when I’m feeling under the weather.

    Oh weekend. How do you fly by so quickly?

    Friday night we went to Chili’s for dinner and then saw “This Means War” with the In-Laws. Dinner was ok…I suppose. I somehow accepted having a whiskey and diet and then also agreed to doing a shot of Jagger before we left for the movie. Even the bar tender judged us for doing shots at what was it? Oh, 6:30pm. All in all, my calories were still spot on for the day. Diaster averted.

    Saturday morning I biked at Stone Mountain Park while my husband ran…. This was a clusterfuck. I’d been having a few bike issues on and off. I attributed them to 50% user error and 50% bike error, though in all reality, I’m sure the numbers were much different. Stone Mountain is a bitch of a bike. Rolling hills, long hills, steep hills, etc. It’s horrific. Anyhow, here I am, big ass and all on my bike, climbing the first hill. You are strong. You can do it. Don’t quit now. And I dont. I climb my first hill successfully. I’m panting, near death and see the next hill and start the climb. CLUNK CLINK CLACK  My gears, my fucking gears. I hop off mid hill to get a peak and what’s happening and this guy wizzes past me yelling, Don’t quit now! Hop on and finish the hill! There’s a big decline after this one!” I have a mixture of emotions and dont know if I should be flattered or outraged.

    1. Fuck yeah, man! I’m with you! Let me hop back on and keep going! I can do this! Thanks for the motiviation!
    2. But Dude, did you assume that I was off my bike and walking it because I’m fat and just needed the motivation? How judgy is that?
    3. Fuck. My gears…

    I hop back on and press through my gears refusing to change. I climb a couple of more hills and then I literally cannot rotate. I hop off, again, hoping the dude hasnt lapped me and yells out to stop quitting. My chain has completely come off. I comtemplate two options, wait for my husband to catch up to me since he’s running and have him fix it or try and figure it out myself. I look down at my french tips, sigh and start trying to work on my chain. Sure, this may be simple for some people, but I have never done any of this shit on my own. My husband always fixes my bike issues. 10 minutes later I think I may have the chain back on and decide to walk up the hill to watch it rotate. All seems good. I hope on and make it down the hill. Great! I’m golden! Let me finish the next 3 miles! Negative. The chain comes off again and I’m stuck inbetween gears. I end up riding down and walking up every hill for the next 2 miles. I was infuriated.

    I ultimately ended up taking my bike to our local shop and the guy said my chain was broken (HAHA! BIKE ERROR!) and I probably broke it. (Well, fuck.) He talked to me about the gears and things NOT to do. Apparently I should never be in 7 & 1. I should lean towards 5 & 3. My legs and hands are bruised from attempting to fix my bike.

    The hardest part about my bike debachale was that I had planned on lapping the mountain twice. Something I’ve never done before. My body has gotten stronger and  I could have done it this time, but instead of me holding myself back, a stupid bike was. I racked my bike and when my husband got done we got in the car. I looked at him will tears in my eyes and he just rubbed my back and told me he believed in me and loved me and knew that I could do it too. That was just what I needed.

    And then Saturday night I started feeling rather crappy. Just a sore throat, so I decided to tough it out. Went to karaoke with some friends and sand my heart out with Disney and Musical show tunes. Talk about amazing. Again, I fell back into my whiskey and diet trap! Sneaky sneaky! I did however manage to eat the “Drive through diet” version of Taco Bell. Who am I becoming? Taco Bell use to be my fat girl camp. It was a moment of pride and happiness and slight disgust.

    Sunday it hit me. I don’t handle being sick very well. I go from strong and capable to weak and feeble. I’m a pathetic blabbering baby like mess. It’s terrible. Fortunately, my husband is a fantastic man and takes very good care of me. I climbed into the bath where I proceeded to read the entire Hunger Games. (Amazing. Read it.) My husband made me a bowl of soup and it didnt taste good, so I ate the pasta he made for himself. When I am sick I crave carbs. It’s terrible and out of control. I ate a bowl of pasta with butter and parmesan cheese. And it didnt even taste that good. My husband took a nap with me and then for dinner, I made myself a cheese quesadilla with sour cream and salsa. A terrible calorie day; over by 500. What I am learning though is forgiveness. One day isn’t the end of the world. Tomorrow is a new day. My husb

    24 Feb, 2012

    Boob Jobs and Blueberries

    Posted by: somuchfattitude In: Food Talk| Life| Weight

    Weigh in day! 216….for a lovely -2lbs this week! I am quite pleased with it. This brings my total loss to -109lbs.

    My goal is to see 199 by my triathlon (May 19th, 2012) and then 175 by early September (Labor Day) and 150 by my Christmas. I found a picture of myself sprawled out on the beach when I weighed 325. It’s interesting to reflect on the picture simply because I can remember thinking when the picture was taken, “Damn, I look fantastic in this swimsuit.” I cannot say nor even think that now when looking at the picture or even in the mirror at this current body. I see “trouble areas” and things to work on. I try to make it a point to find something I like in the mirror every day. Most days it’s my tits. I have fantastic tits. Though, even now I want a boob job when I hit my goal weight (not implants, they’re big enough, but put my nipples back where they belong.)

    I said I’d make mention of food:

    I grew up in a culinary family. My father owned restaurants, pubs, bars, etc. all over the world. One of my chores growing up was that I made dinner twice a week for my family. My brother is also culinary inclined and nearly opened his own restaurant (I wouldn’t be surprised if he still did.) It’s fair to say that I too am damn good in the kitchen. 99% of what I make is always from scratch and to be honest, margarine doesn’t keep the same consistency and the scent alone makes me want to vomit, the melt point in low fat cheese is retarded, and fat free half and half doesn’t make anything creamy. I’m a foodie. I shop at the farmer’s market, ask for specific cuts of meat and take my time picking my produce. I would like to take a moment to discuss a few interesting foods!

    Blueberries - I find these the sneakiest of all foods. Sometimes they are sweet and firm, other times they are sweet and soft, sometimes extremely tart. I simply love blueberries, they keep me guessing! (Not to mention, they combine beautifully with chocolate.) The way the pop in your mouth and explode. Oh god, I fear I’ve just hyper sexualized blueberries… Well, this just got awkward.

    I am slightly cauliflower obsessed. I eat it probably twice a week. I love mashed cauliflower. I will not, however, for one second tell you that it tastes anything like mashed potatos. It does not. It tastes like cauliflower that’s been mashed up. Here’s how I rock it:

    • 16oz. (1-2 heads) cauliflower depending on size (or a bag of frozen caulifower if you’re feeling particularly lazy
    • 1oz. cream cheese
    • 1/4 cup philly cooking cream
    • salt & pepper

    Just boil, drain and puree it all together. Full fat cream cheese and philly cooking cream. For 1/2 of it (if using a bag of frozen cauliflower) it totals around 150 in calories. I pair it with a grilled chicken breast and some roasted asparagus. It looks like mashed potatos, kind creamy in that same way, but they dont taste the same, dont be fooled. I will say, though, it’s one of my favorites.

    Oh hai, Jicama! (Pronunciation: HIH-kuh-ma) This little lovely is a cross between a slightly sweet apple and a turnip. They are crunchy, juicy and sweet. I love them in salads. I also enjoy slicing them into sticks (like pictured here) and dipping them in hummus or any other tasty dip. I’ve heard they are also delightful sprinkled with chili powder and lemon juice. They are high fiber, low calorie and high in anti-oxidants. I strongly suggest them! They can be a little tough to peel, but just use a knife and tear the tough exterior off.  

    Grapple: the mind fucking fruit. This little mystery smells like a grape popsicle and sometimes tastes like one, and sometimes tastes like a Washington Apple. It has the texture of an apple and looks like an apple. WTF? How does this happen? I can’t wrap my head around it. To be honest, I’m not sure if I’m sold on it. I’m not a huge grape person, nor am I a huge Washington apple person, but when I saw them combined I thought maybe I will like two things I dont typically like combined together! Brilliant, right? If grapes and Washington apples are your thing, I strongly suggest you buy some.

    I like cooking. A lot. So, if you see something weird, or have a suggestion, please share! I’d love to try something new! 

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